


Burning Old Bridges

by orphan_account



Category: Big Bang (Band)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, M/M, WARNING SECOND PERSON, i don't think i'll try second person again, maybe a little bit of language actually, tagged t for depressing subjects and not much else, this is from aff i'm never going back on there, this is old work, trainees, whoops lots of metaphors and flowery stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-11
Updated: 2015-11-11
Packaged: 2018-05-01 01:59:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5187836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ever since you first set eyes on him all those years ago, what you know from the bottom of your heart is that you hate Lee Seunghyun.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Burning Old Bridges

You like Hyunseung.

You like him because he’s a reflection of you in more ways than one, and maybe that’s what attracts you to him. Human beings – because you remind yourself, you are one – are drawn to similarity. They project themselves upon their environment, and as shallow as the reason sounds, you feel like you’re protecting yourself. You offer him the advice you wished your younger self could have known, because god knows you would’ve needed it.

Hyunseung is a faulty version of yourself two to three years ago, all soft panes and rounded edges before the black came and chased out the white; before the green morphed into such an ugly shade of jade you refused to look at it. You’re still so new to the scene, you’ll admit that, but what you’ve already learned scares even you sometimes.

You’ll do anything to preserve that innocence of his – of almost-yours – for as long as you can. And for this you take him under your wing; you guide him through the halls of the YG Entertainment building, smiling at the staff walking by. You make him introduce himself a few times, but he stutters his ways around greetings so painfully that you toss the notion after the fourth try.

Maybe in the future, you think.

You arrive at the practice room early. Youngbae is already there, giving you a only second’s worth of acknowledgement before going back to practicing the twist from last week he hadn’t quite gotten; you know this because he’d been complaining about it, passively of course, for the past few days none stop. Granted, it’s not often something like that happens – you suspect he needs someone to vent on, he’s been so wound up lately with the prospect of debuting – so you let it pass.

You have to admit you’re surprised when Seunghyun walks in a short while after, headphones fitted snugly against his ears. You don’t know when his dance practice is, but you’re certain it’s not this block. He looks funny, nodding to the beat only he can hear, but you bypass that in favour of throwing yourself at Hyunseung who slips through the door shortly after. Something is most certainly unusual.

You latch your arms around his neck. You’re pleased that he doesn’t even try to remove you now, because he should know better than to even attempt such a crime.

Hyunseung doesn’t bother to hide any trace of mock distaste, however. “Get off, you’re so heavy.”

You grin into his shoulder. “Am not. If anything, you’re just getting weaker.”

“There’s no way you didn’t put on a few pounds between then and now,” he retorts, perfectly composed and unruffled.

You scoff at that. What few pounds? If anything, you think all the effort you have been putting into your dancing cuts a few from the last time you two had met (two days ago, to be specific). There is no freaking way you’ve gained since then.

You voice this thought. When Hyunseung lets out a long suffering sigh, your grin merely gets wider, and you oblige as he detaches himself with an infinitesimally small smile.

“Old man,” you jibe. “How are you going to get anything done in life if you can’t even lift me?”

Hyunseung blinks. “Why would I have to lift you?”

It’s a good question. You dismiss the thought quickly though – a quick explanation will shut him up anyway. “Wouldn’t you do it for your hyung?” You laugh.

He tilts his head, the movement so birdlike, you think. He’s not aware of the cat behind him at all. He’s not even aware of the fact that it’s a cat.

It’s not the first time either that you’re certain Hyunseung’s not meant for this industry. Too innocent, too… good? Pure? You’re not sure what word you’re looking for in the first place. A small part of you reminds you that you’ve been there too – has anyone ever thought the same for you? Looked out for you?

(Never.)

You smirk. “Yah, next thing you know you’re hearing’s going to go too.”

His face remains so curiously neutral for a moment. “Watch it, hyung.” He attempts a leer, but there is no real malice. (Hyunseung can’t pull off half of his attempted expressions anyway, and as harsh as it may sound, it’s nothing less than the truth.)

Your grin splits wider, and you tilt your head quizzically. “Watch what?”

Someone snorts beside your ear, although you would have known his identity from a mile away. He reeks of sweat, and you wrinkle your nose. It’s Youngbae, having just finished his practice, or at least getting the move down well enough so that he is willing to call the practice off.

“If anything, it’s your hearing that’s going,” Youngbae says by way of greeting, propping a very much warm arm on your shoulder. He’s slightly shorter than you – or in your words, his growth spurt never hit – and the height difference is even more apparent when he’s trying to lean on you.

You fight the urge to shrug his arm off, because you could deal with it for a few moments. You don’t want a misunderstanding. It’s not that you don’t tolerate him as much as you don’t want your new shirt sweaty, which could, by the way, afford to go through the wash a few more times in the name of sacrifices and friendship.

Of course you like Youngbae too; it’s just in a different way from what you feel for Hyunseung. Youngbae’s the type of person you would want to go to for advice – argument with your parents? He’ll probably have something wise to say (or crack at). In a slump? Have no motivation? He’s a natural at pep talks. You may not like the words that come out of his mouth when he sees something you don’t – he has the capability to be so smug and condescending, but his constant presence by your side is what has kept you standing for so many years.

You’re about to protest because your hearing is definitely not going, thank you very much, when the door opens again. Perking up minutely, you watch the figure appear past the glass, and in a moment the interest’s gone again. It’s the other Seunghyun. You had been half hoping for Yang Hyunsuk.

The boy is loud and utterly predictable as he bows to the three of you before turning to Big Seunghyun and chatting away. You’re not entirely sure how Seunghyun even tolerates the behavior. You used to think the glimmers of amusement on his face was just a mask, but the fact that Seunghyun has failed to walk away for the past few hundred times this has happened seems to indicate something else.

You don’t like the other Seunghyun. You don’t like his attitude; so cocksure and arrogant to a fault when he has nothing except idle dreams and too-big words to back it up. If the distance between where you two stand were smaller, maybe you would have been able to understand him. It’s a wonder anyone tolerates him for that fact. Maybe they see something in him. Something extraordinary. Yang Hyunsuk seems to. Maybe they see something past that bravado rooted so deeply in his soul.

You don’t.

Seunghyun has him caught in a headlock right now and with a start, you realize that maybe he’s the reason you’ve started avoiding Seunghyun, and the thought somehow makes you even more pissed at the boy. The hatred is irrational. You know that. You should know better since your mother has drilled the etiquette, manners, and acceptance into the very core of your being ever since you had been able to understand the then incomprehensible syllables, but something about the distance between your two walks of life prevents you from even attempting.

In some ways, your distance makes sense. You’re widely hailed as YG’s golden boy, he’s the self-proclaimed hotshot from Gwangju. He is carefree to the point that it seems as though he doesn’t heed his opportunities at all, and more than anything, you think you hate him for not understanding the pressure everyone else lives in, twenty-four seven.

He’s coasting along. He doesn’t belong.

Seunghyun says something that prompts the other boy to make a ridiculous face. He’s so garish it’s not even funny, you think, and before you’re able to turn away or hide your wince, his gaze latches onto yours. And he stares, the look in his eyes neutral and maybe the slightest bit curious.

You jerk your eyes away, lips curling, as Youngbae finally pushes off from your shoulders. Smart man, you think.

“I’m starting to think it’s not just your hearing.”

You blink incredulously, because what the hell is Youngbae talking about? “What?”

“Are you back on Earth yet? Damn, your mind’s going too.”

You scoff. “When am I? When am I not?”

 

-x-

 

Yang Hyunsuk does eventually come in that afternoon, not too long after Daesung arrives.

The six of you, or really in your opinion, the five of you plus the boy, are lined up in a row when the CEO announces the news.

Most of the announcement does go in one ear and out the other, because it’s the typical speech Yang Hyunsuk likes to make before announcing whatever information he’s withholding. The one part that does manage to capture your attention, the part that manages to cage it and freeze it in its steps is the word “debut.” It’s clear the others are shocked too, because directly after the statement, there is only numbing silence.

“The six of us? A group?” you vaguely hear yourself asking.

“Not quite. I have decided on a survival show to select the final members that will be debuting, which is currently undecided. Most likely four, maybe five,” Yang Hyunsuk explains, and his voice is so very light, like he doesn’t hold your future, six futures, in the palm of his hand. “There will be an assessment in two weeks’ time. You’ll start your filming soon as well, so be prepared for that.”

Hyunseung gives a tiny shake of his head, eyes wide, in what you think is disbelief. “So not all of us will get to debut then.” You hesitantly place a gentle hand on his back – his pallor is paling by the second. It’s hard for him, but then again, it’s hard for all of you.

The CEO’s lips tighten. You think he might respond directly to that comment, but in the end, he resigns himself to a short, “Good luck,” which sends more chills down your spine than any warning or disapproval can.

That day, you think you can feel the pressure for the first time in years. Your dream, it’s being dangled in front of you, and you wonder aside from publicity, if this is Yang Hyunsuk’s twisted way of motivating the six of you.

You recon it is.

Training becomes a grueling ordeal after this. A group dance practice is added on top of the individual, and you can see your members – you’re not the official leader, yet, but the place comes naturally to you especially seeing that you’ve been with YG the longest – being stretched thinner and thinner.

The date of the promised debut comes closer. The filming for the documentary starts. Youngbae doesn’t crack his wise ass comments anymore, even if he still offers his shoulder for support, and sometimes, as you’ll admit, for you to cry on. Seunghyun is cracking under the disapproval of his dance instructor. Hyunseung is being reprimanded for his lack of facial expressions more than ever. You fight back a wince when the cameraman films the feedback given for the photoshoot – “Jiyong, Little Seunghyun, and Big Seunhyun’s expressions are all fantastic; Youngbae and Daesung, yours turned out fine. Now Hyunseung…” – it’s not as though Hyunseung isn’t aware of what he’s doing wrong.

Just give him some time, you want to say.

And yet, there are some many things you wished you didn’t know, like the fact that you don’t have time. Like the fact that Daesung has started asking you for fashion advice – about what looks good on him when you know he’s the type who likes dressing to express himself more than to please others.

You tell Youngbae about this one day, about him caving to the comments of the masses, and Youngbae promptly calls you a hypocrite. You leave it alone after that.

Little Seunghyun is not as loud or enthusiastic anymore. The extent to which it unsettles you startles yourself for a while; you cannot remember the last time he had actually spoken less than an entire full length essay’s worth of words at practice.

 

-x-

 

Only Youngbae moves into the twist fast enough, after the drop to the ground. You pause the music.

“One more time,” you bite out, the words sticking to your tongue like molasses and refusing to let go cleanly in your fatigue. Hyunseung sinks to the ground at that, and you push back a sigh. Do they not see that you don’t want it any more than they do? “Once more without any mistakes and I’ll let you guys go.”

Collective groans greet your announcement. You frown. “Jiyong,” Youngbae’s voice comes, a hint of warning riding in its undertone. A small part of your mind understands that what you're asking for is unreasonable, but you can't let go, not when they're nearly there. You'll call it off, and you'll let them leave, you think. Just one more time. That can't be too hard.

You pay it no heed. Not now, not when you know that if you let them go, they’ll forget that turn you’ve dedicated the past twenty minutes straightening out, and you won’t stand for that. The performance needs to embody perfection or something damn well close to that; Yang Hyunsuk is experimenting and knows this arrangement is new, and this will show precisely what your group is made of. Your progress is something that decides whether he pulls out of the project or not, so why can't the rest see that?

You heave yourself off of the bench you’re sitting on. Like the saying goes, who are you to lead if you don’t show them what to follow in the first place? Hyunseung gives a halfhearted glare but consents, letting you pull him to his feet.

“Why can’t we continue tomorrow?” he mutters, dusting the grey sweats (that you gifted him for his birthday, along with a plethora of other assorted presents) off.

You snort. “There’s no way in hell you’ll remember.”

Hyunseung levels a stare, eyes blank. This is about as close to challenging you as he’ll ever get. “Why won’t we? We may be ten minutes behind tomorrow, but how much more are we going to get out of this practice when all of us are this exhausted?”

Your mind says he might be onto something. Your pride says otherwise. “This is about muscle memory." You wring your fingers. "As tired as you may be now, you'll get the moves done a lot quicker today. We won't have to spend much time at all on this tomorrow, because it's not just this one move, Hyunseung. It's the whole sequence. How the hell do you think we'll remember the nuances tomorrow if we haven't even gotten them down?"

He pushes a hand through his hair roughly, the sweat glueing the strands together. "But Jiyong-hyung, no one's in any condition to move, let alone dance. I don't have a remote clue as to how you're even up on two feet," Hyunseung murmurs ever so softly, "but please, we'll find time tomorrow."

You're almost ready to let them all go when your head snaps back at his comments. "Find time tomorrow? Find time? Don't you know we're running out of precisely that? President Yang will be evaluating us in two days, we're not anywhere near ready," you spit, volume inching up, "and you want to sacrifice this for sleep?"

"I'm not saying that we don't need practice, hyung." Hyunseung amends quickly, but you cut him off. You're not finished, not anywhere close, as the frustration and anxiety that has been building for the past hour pours out in the words that nearly trip over each other as they're hurled out of your mouth.

"Sleep?" You laugh, the sound disconnected and harsh. "Oh, you think you're tired now? What do you think it'll be like after you debut -- no sorry, my bad, if you debut." Little Seunghyun, Youngbae, and Hyunseung give you a wide-eyed glances as though they can't believe you just went there. Daesung hangs his head. Seunghyun, who has been looking apathetic and disinterested, is frowning. The silence that settles is what you had been aiming for, but you didn't anticipate how smothering it proves to be.

"Hyung..." Little Seunghyun finally says, looking at you as though you've just personally stabbed him. Strange, because since when had he even begun to place trust in you? And you find the idea of that trust hilarious; the Jiyong that every sees and the one you like to be is reliable, polite, charismatic. The one you're all too familiar with is anything but. Judging by the way the quiet does not disappate, you think you may have gone too far, but someone has to play the bad cop in order for actual growth to happen.

You decide to take a step back by lowering your voice. Proceed. Softly. Carefully. Entreatingly, the special one you pull out to do your diplomatics with. "Look, I'm not asking for a lot. One more run through, not from the start, how's that? Just from here." You raise you hand and mime the gun motion to your head that is two measures before the drop to the ground. Everything had looked good up to then. "Come on, I'll do it with you guys."

Hyunseung sighs and goes to play the song once again. You're glad they're listening at least.

 

-x-

 

Soon enough, one assessment turns into two, which slips into three and eventually all feedback is muddled in your mind aside from the constants screams to get better. Fast. Better and better until perfection is just about in your grasp, and that's what will drive you slowly to insanity because how can anyone achieve such herculean standards? It's a slow descent into the darkness that is hell, especially when you have no one there to hear you out. The only reason you don't fall is because of the promise of perfection itself -- it drives you up and it pulls you down even further under its swaths.

It's becomes apparent quickly that Hyunseung and Little Seunghyun are trailing behind. Nothing is ever certain, but you know you and Youngbae are out of the danger zone for the most part. Everyone loves Daesung. It's either Seunghyun's rapping, Little Seunghyun's dancing, or Hyunseung's... roundedness. And pretty face. You'll give him that. You hear Hyunseung practicing his vocals, dancing, but most of all his acting more and more.

Today, you sit with him as he pulls expressions at his doppelganger across the divide in the mirror.

"Yah, like that," you exclaim as you see an expressions you particularly like, whistling at the sexy gaze he'd been able to chanel for a few swift seconds before it had turned tail and fled. "Alright, so maybe not like that. But you remember what you were doing, right?" 

He blushes, hiding his face in his hands as he crumples in on himself. He is silent for a few moments, before he lifts his head again, arms still covering his eyes. "Ugh no. Never again."

"Aside from making you look like a puppy trying to intimidate--" You grin. "--It's not all that bad."

Hyunseung still refuses to look at you.

"Come on, it can't be that bad. Just try again."

"Ah, alright," he says, but you can tell his heart's not in it from then on.

You have never liked this notion of practicing facial features. It's idiotic, because what comes naturally will always come naturally. What doesn't will not. He can drill it into himself, but it will be a lengthy road simply due to the fact that it's not in him. You aren't disillusioned though. You know that it's a must for any idol, it's the reason that Seunghyun is where he is along with his well defined face, but the fact that Hyunseung is nearly ranked on the same level as an amateur (not really amateur, your mind insists, but you pay no heed) from Gwangju irks you to no end.

You do find it intruiging, however, that Little Seunghyun's in the studio the earliest at the crack of dawn, and returns only around midnight, sometimes later. 

Sometime later, you fend Seunghyun off as he takes a crack at the dark circles under the boy's eyes. It earns you a strange look from Youngbae as well as Little Seunghyun himself, but you grudingly admit to yourself that the tenacity, if put to something useful, is something you like.

Soon enough, four assessments slide into five and then Yang Hyunsuk has announced that the line-up for the debuting boyband has been decided. 

The bottom of your stomach drops out, and suddenly all the preparation you've done seems worthless. Insignificant.

He calls out your and Youngbae's name first. You're terrified. You can tell Youngbae is terrified. It doesn't show on camera, but you're shaking so hard on the inside that you're surprised you're still standing. The numbers add up which could mean that you two are being dropped for some odd reason -- not showing enough growth? Not fitting into group dynamics? Not--

\--And it's announced that you're chosen. 

The bottom of your stomach drops out all over again because that means someone you care about is going to get their dreams obliterated.

 

-x-

 

When you look back on the time you did the documentary, you reach a few conclusions. 

The first of these is that Hyunseung has stopped following you since a long way back. Perhaps back then he did, but eventually, step by step, he walked further away. It's not something you're ecstatic about, but you're glad for him none the less. He's growing. You're growing. And life goes on. You stand by what you had thought all those years ago when you had first met him -- he does seem to pure for the idol world in more ways than one. 

Hyunseung and Little Seunghyun are dropped, except it doesn't stay that way. 

Little Seunghyun somehow manages to hold on, to grab onto the handle of the less than ten percent chance and slips through the ordeal with a millimeter's worth of room to spare. You had scoffed at his five reasons -- four, really. He's surprisingly resilient, so much more than you had given him credit for. Maybe, you think, it's because he's had to cling onto everything in life to get to where he is. He's had practice, and it does pay off in the way that he scrambles for the spot, even if it means tossing behind his name in favour of Seungri.

You duck your head to hide the tears that are building behind your eyelids as Hyunseung's belongings are packed away inside the luggage bag, little parts of himself that he's taking away from you, arguably forever. You've stood by his side for a long time, and he, by yours. It's hard to say anything as you separate, but you manage to bid him good luck privately, and when you do, the tears do spill. You're eternally grateful there aren't any cameras nearby.

"I'll miss you." You're clinging to him by his shoulders, and you don't ever want to let go. 

Hyunseung smiles softly, and you realize that he's not the same rookie who walked into YG, unsuspecting of all the challenges that would lie ahead of him. He's fought a battle, he's fought tooth and nail; even if he can't stay at the end, it does not change that fact that he is standing. Since when has his smile turned so sad and his gaze so old? (You come to the conclusion you always arrive at -- it's something the industry does to you, isn't it? A smart part of you hopes it isn't because of yourself.)

The week after Hyunseung leaves, you find yourself at a loss. You have just finished getting your food at the cafeteria in YG's trainee building, and you find that you don't know where to go next. This is where Hyunseung should be joining you. This is where Hyunseung should be choosing the table meticulously, and when you ask him how he decides, he'll merely grin mysteriously. This is where you should feel at home, but for the first time, you think you understand how it's possible to feel so empty when someone leaves.

You set your tray down at a table in the corner randomly, stirring your soup aimlessly. Five minutes later, familiar faces arrive. Daesung and Seunghyun select seats several tables down. They don't see you, not yet, and when you're about to stand up and make your way over, another tray set centimetres away from your own stops you and glues you to your spot. 

"Can I sit here?" Seungri asks, although it's more like a demand in your opinion. He's already half seated anyway.

You blink, because you can't fathom why he would treat you like this after all you've done for him (nothing except for words harsher than sticks and stones), but you nod, give the tiniest smile.

Maybe you're ready for this.

"Ah, sure maknae."

**Author's Note:**

> initially posted over at aff but the format bothers me a lot on the site so i've moved this thing over here. it was supposed to be multiple part. oops.


End file.
